Auld Lang Syne
by boldlikeblack
Summary: Ringing in 2010, Puckleberry style.


**A/N: I realized last night, after hitting one too many gimlets, that this has been sitting on my computer since I saw the very first episode of Glee way back in the spring, and that I should have probably posted it. So it's a bit late, but here's some Puckleberry goodness to ring in 2010! I don't own Glee, if I did Mark Salling would never wear a shirt. Also, this is compliant to everything but 'Sectionals' since I couldn't make it comply with all the babygate drama. Cheers! Reviews are love.**

"_Should auld acquaintance be forgot,_

_And never brought to mind?_

_Should auld acquaintance be forgot,_

_In days of auld lang syne?"_

_Auld Lang Syne, Robert Burns_

It was Finn's awful, terrible idea to have this party. If Rachel wasn't so head over heels for him, she might have had the reason of mind to talk him out of it. Instead she just smiled and told Finn that she would be more than happy to attend the New Year's Eve party he was throwing. She realized too late that the invitation would also be open to the rest of Finn's friends, not only the Glee kids, but also the football players and Cheerios.

So instead of spending New Year's Eve at home drinking sparkling cider and watching 'New York, New York' with her dads, Rachel was at Finn's hiding (not hiding, not really, she wasn't afraid of some stupid Cheerios) in the kitchen and wishing she were somewhere else.

The rest of the Glee kids had retreated to Finn's basement, having discovered a rather large TV for such a modest sized house. Mercedes had taken control of the remote and turned the channel to 'New Year's Rockin' Eve with Ryan Seacrest." Even though Dick Clark, in Rachel's opinion, was so much better, everyone had agreed to watch the ball drop in Times Square simply because it was tradition, which was something they were sorely lacking at this very untraditional soiree. Unfortunately, someone had to be elected to return upstairs to get the requisite snacks and beverages and by popular vote that someone just happened to be Rachel.

Hence why she was in Finn's kitchen, decidedly not hiding, searching for snacks at five minutes to midnight on New Year's Eve. Rachel had found an unopened bag of regular flavoured potato chips to take and, while the irony of taking plain chips to the decidedly un-plain kids of Glee was not lost on her, she was having a hard time finding beverages in an equally portable form.

Rachel was trying to put a possibly open bottle of soda under her other arm when a laugh from the doorway startled her. This caused the soda bottle to slip out from under her arm, upon which she found out that the bottle was decidedly open as the dark, fizzy liquid spilled down the side of her white button-down.

She squeezed her eyes shut and held back tears of frustration. Another shirt, most likely ruined. At least when she got slushee'd at school; she had a change of clothes in her locker to use. Now she was stuck wearing this sticky, awful shirt.

A snort from the doorway caught her attention. Noah Puckerman was leaning against the doorframe and Rachel could honestly say she wasn't surprised he was the one responsible for her current predicament. She glared at her ex-boyfriend, hostility practically exuding from her pores, and started trying to mop up the stain on her side.

She concentrated very, very hard at both cleaning up the soda and ignoring Puck, so she was very surprised (she wouldn't have called it jumping out of her skin exactly, though most would) to look up and find him standing next to her, staring at her with glassy eyes.

It took Rachel another moment to realize that while she and the Glee kids had been having some nice, clean fun in the basement, the party goers upstairs had gotten into liquor cabinet Finn's mom kept. Puck was staring at her with this strange look in her eyes (a strange look that was not making her insides feel like butter on hot toast, just to keep things very clear) because he was drunk as skunk. She simply glared at him and continued blotting the stain.

"You should stop," Puck said, resting his hand over Rachel's and causing her to stumble back into Finn's kitchen table.

Rachel frowned at him. "And why exactly is that, Puck?" she asked, furious (for it was anger that was making her temperature rise, and certainly not the touch of a boy whom she sort-of despised).

Puck stepped in closer, placing his hands on the table and effectively trapping Rachel between his arms. She could feel the table digging into the back of her thighs as she ineffectively leaned away. "Because," he said, "you're prettier that way."

"What?" she asked, disbelieving that Puck had actually said something complimentary. He hadn't said anything of the sort since she had broken off their very brief romance. Truth be told, he hadn't said much of anything to her since that day on the bleachers.

His glassy eyes shimmered and his mouth (which was very full and kind of alluringly pink, not that Rachel paid much attention to this) curved into a half smile that really, really didn't make Rachel's legs wobble at all (because she liked Finn Hudson and not Noah Puckerman...not since before her Bat Mitzvah anyways). He lifted one hand off the table and pushed back a strand of Rachel's hair. "Because," he said, with his hand resting on her cheek, "it makes you less perfect."

Rachel put her hands against Puck's chest (really, really not noticing that he had excellent pecs) and looked at him sternly. "It's almost midnight," she said, "and you're very drunk. You should go back to the party. There's probably an equally drunk Cheerio that you can kiss...Santana, maybe?"

It was then that Rachel made a very critical error. Just before she'd said the word kiss, she had looked down at Puck's mouth, and the word had come out weirdly strained and distorted, like she had just run a sprint. She only had a split second to ponder this before Puck used the hand on her cheek to pull her forward and press her lips to his.

Rachel could hear the other party-goers counting down, but it was like she was under water. The sound was muffled and her brain felt fuzzy.

They were long since broken up, but Puck was **kissing** her. She would have objected firmly if Puck hadn't nibbled at her bottom lip.

_10_

Instead, Rachel kind of sighed and her knees gave out (but only just a little; it was that whole butter and toast thing again).

_9_

Puck's hand slipped from her cheek down to her back, encircling her in his arms so she wouldn't fall. She realized then that she was kissing him back.

_8_

Rachel touched Puck's bottom lip with her tongue, and he parted his lips with ease. The heat of his mouth surprised her and she clutched at his t-shirt.

_7_

His heart was beating surprisingly fast for someone with a reputation. Rachel could feel his heartbeat thudding under her hands. God she'd missed this.

_6_

Rachel pushed her mouth harder against Puck's, full of heat, excitement, terror, and lust. Her right hand brushed against something that was soft and hard at the same time. She thought it might have been Puck's nipple.

_5_

There was something small and circular under her fingers, which made her think she might be wrong. It was almost like...an earring. Rachel's brain shorted out as she processed that Noah Puckerman had a **nipple ring**, which her hand was resting on, while **she** was kissing **him**. She suddenly wished she'd gotten his shirt off when they'd been dating.

_4_

Rachel fell deeper into the kiss, unconsciously letting her fingers brush across the ring. She was surprised when Puck moaned, but was quick to swallow the sound (because it would be terrible if anyone found them, especially if that person was Finn).

_3_

As Puck arms squeezed her tighter, her knees completely gave way. It didn't matter that he was the only thing keeping her from falling on the floor, or that the stupid table was really, really digging into her backside right now. She knew that he was more than capable of holding her up, and she was totally enjoying the feeling of his "badass guns" (not that she would ever, ever admit that to anyone).

_2_

The pressure of Puck's lips on her own eased up some and Rachel would forever be embarrassed to say she actually whimpered. Much to her surprise he didn't pull away, but turned their kiss into something slower and sweeter. On some level, she realized the kiss was going to end soon (and on a much, much deeper level Rachel realized that she didn't actually want it to).

_1_

Puck pulled back and rested his forehead against hers for the briefest of moments before pulling his arms away. Rachel gripped the table for support and stared at him in awe. He smiled softly again as the rest of the party flared up with the sound of cheering and noisemakers.

"Happy New Year, Rach," he said before turning on his heel and weaved drunkenly out of the kitchen.

She could only blink and say nothing.

***

It was Mercedes who found her. Rachel was still supporting her weight on the table and staring into space.

Mercedes took one look at Rachel's mussed hair, red face, and stained shirt before swooping in like a well-meaning but bothersome mother hen.

Rachel blinked at her when Mercedes set her hands down on Rachel's shoulders. "Hey girl; who did this to you?" Mercedes demanded.

"What?" Rachel asked.

"Your shirt? Who wrecked your shirt?"

"Oh," Rachel said, "it was Puck."

Mercedes sighed and shook her head. "Even after everything, he's still being a jack-ass? You oughta talk to Finn about that guy. Finn said he'd made them all be nice if we came, and look at this. We gotta get you home so you can clean that out."

Rachel nodded and did her best to stand without wobbling (because she was Rachel Berry, and Rachel Berry would not embarrass herself by wobbling out of the party and having everyone laugh). "Let me get my jacket, then we'll go," she said.

Mercedes looked at her strangely for a moment before agreeing to go get Artie, Tina and Kurt (who had finally gotten his car back and had kindly provided transport for the evening). Rachel knew that hauling Artie's chair up the basement stairs would take a while, so she had time to find her coat before the Glee kids piled into Kurt's car to go home (except Artie, who they would wait with until his parents picked him up in their specially equipped van).

Rachel made her way through Finn's living room, weaving through amorous couples who hadn't seemed to notice the new year had come more than a half hour ago. Her heart clenched a little when she noticed that one of the couples snuggling on the couch was Finn and a noticeably pregnant Quinn, but she averted her eyes and walked down the hallway to Finn's room, which was doubling as a coatroom for the event.

She closed the door behind her softly and leaned against it, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she learned that Puck hadn't been part of one of the pairs in the living room. He was here, asleep, in Finn's room.

Rachel felt her lips turn up into an almost unwilling smile as she took in the pile of coats that Puck had pushed onto the floor before sprawling out on Finn's bed. He was fast asleep on his back. For the first time in a very long time, Puck looked almost innocent.

As she bent down to pick up her jacket, she brushed up against Puck's arm and he mumbled in his sleep. She froze. After a moment, he stopped mumbling and rolled over on his side, curling his arms around himself (probably because he was cold).

Rachel slipped her jacket on and took the blanket from the foot of Finn's bed. Not really wanting to consider why, she spread the blanket over Puck (his freezing to death would have a decidedly negative impact on the Glee club's ability to compete...).

Unable to stop herself, Rachel smoothed Puck's (stupid, terrible, awful, atrocious, and adorable) hair back. Feeling silly (and terrified that he'd wake up, suddenly be sober, and laugh at her until she died of embarrassment), she pressed a kiss to his upturned cheek. "Happy New Year," she whispered.

A ghost of a smile crossed Puck's sleeping face. Rachel smiled in return and left the room, ready to get home and go to bed (where she would most certainly **not** dream of Noah Puckerman even though her pillows still inexplicably of his cologne).


End file.
